The Anti-Boyfriend Read online Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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On the way to Simone’s, I checked my email as I walked. To my utter shock, several responses to my inquiry about a part-time childcare worker had come in. I’d figured it wasn’t going to be easy finding someone interested in a variable schedule. But it seemed I’d underestimated the number of people who didn’t want to be tied to a fixed routine.

Hope filled me. Maybe this was going to work out after all.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after Sunny and I had returned home, there was a knock at the door.

Peeking through the hole, I smiled. Deacon stood there with two Starbucks cups in his hands. Lately, he hadn’t even been texting me before coffee runs. He’d just proactively get me a latte if he happened to be passing by.

“You’re my favorite person right now,” I said, reaching for the coffee. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

His eyes went wide as he looked me up and down. “Look at you. You look great.”

I was still wearing my black sheath dress from the interview. My hair was down and styled into loose curls. This was definitely the most dressed up Deacon had ever seen me.

“I do clean up nice when I have to.”

“Where did you go?”

I didn’t immediately answer, instead walking over to grab my wallet, though I knew he would once again refuse my money.

Deacon held out his palm. “Stop. I won’t take it.”

“Why are you paying for my coffee again?”

“Because you didn’t ask for it. I chose to get it. Now drink it and put away the money.”

“You spoil me, Deacon. And given that I have no income, it’s most appreciated.” I took a sip then smiled. “But that may be changing soon,” I added in a song-songy voice.

He perked up. “You got a job?”

“Not yet. But that’s why I’m dressed up. I had an interview today.”

“No shit? What’s the position?”

“It’s a PR gig at a different ballet company than the one I used to work for.”

He beamed. “That’s fantastic. That’d be perfect for you.”

“Well, I can’t celebrate until they offer me the job. And I’ll have to figure out a situation for Sunny if I get it. I’d probably be able to work more than half the week from home, but there would be some events I’d need to attend, sometimes with little notice. That’s why I have to line a couple people up.”

“You got any leads?”

“Actually, yes. There’s this company that matches families and childcare workers. A friend of a friend recommended it. They sent me a few people to check out today. I’ll have to interview them all, but the company vets them, runs background checks, and makes sure they have appropriate experience. Like, I specifically requested people who have worked with special-needs kids.” I took a sip. “I just pray it will work out.”

“Well, my gram always says if you think positively, make yourself believe it will all work out, it will. We have no idea how much our outlook affects things.”

“I definitely have to work on that.”

Deacon took a seat on my couch and picked up a ball of yarn I had sitting there from the night before. “What are you making?”

“Oh. I’ve been trying to teach myself to crochet, but it’s not going well. I wanted to make a hat for Sunny.”

“Promise not to laugh, okay?” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t laugh at what I’m about to tell you.”

Before he could say anything further, my phone rang.

He waved his hand. “Take it. I’ll tell you after.”

When I went to pick it up, Deacon walked over to where Sunny was swinging. He knelt down and muttered something to her.

The call was from a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”

“Carys? It’s Cynthia.”

I cleared my throat. “Oh…hello, Cynthia.”

With wide eyes, I looked over at Deacon. He gave me a fist pump.

“I did a lot of thinking after you left my office today,” she said. “I’ve always been a big believer that you have to go with your gut.”

My heart started to pound. “Okay…”

“My gut told me not to waste the time of those other two interviewees. I should just offer you the position. With your history, I doubt anyone could put their heart into it the way you can.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“I am. Congratulations. The job is yours if you want it.”

“I do. I do—thank you!”

Deacon gave me a thumbs-up and smiled wide.

“Now, I’m assuming you’ll need time to line someone up for your daughter, so why don’t we select a start date in, say, three weeks? You can let me know if you need a bit longer.”

Blinking, I answered, “Sure. That sounds amazing.” I had to keep myself from jumping up and down.

“I’ll email you an exact date. Plan to work in the office for at least the first three days for training.”


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